Countdown to Italy, and the four-letter P word

4 days...4 days...that's it. I've got to make it four more days before I'm sitting on an international flight to Germany (then to Florence) with my four sisters and my mom. 4 days until we laugh til our faces fall off that we are doing this. Actually doing this! My mom and sister Jessy were over last night and we all agreed that if someone had asked us five years ago if a trip like this would ever happen, we all would have said, " H-to-the-Heck no!" We would have dreamt it a million times, but how on earth would we coordinate 6 schedules, let alone someone not being pregnant, or just having a baby, or someone going off to college, or having the money...So you can imagine how everytime we talk about this trip, we all get this glazed-over look in our eyes, and our words trail off into mumbles and we begin to stare into space...because we can't believe it's happening either! 4 days...

Which brings me to the past 10 days of my life. Normally this four letter word is a great thing around here. It gets thrown in with sentences such as "Yay, Isaac, you pooped!" or "Geez, I was wondering when Eliza would poop, poor girl." Yes, poop is normally a good thing around here. It all started when Sean came home from the hospital about two weeks ago complaining of upset stomach...the whole bug thing. I just thought it might have been something he ate.

Last Sunday, our WONDERFUL babysitter from Michigan, Meghan, came to stay with us for an entire week, which was sooooo much fun. I drove halfway through Canada to meet Carol, her mom and pick up Meghan. The morning after she arrived, I woke up to the sound of Isaac whimpering from his room at 6:15am. I grumbly got out of bed, half still asleep, and as I approached his door I started to make out what he was saying over and over again...

"Mommy, I poopied, I poopied..."

My eyes popped open instantly. What? I walk into his room and he's covered with diahhrea (OK, that's probably TMI, but oh well) on his pillowcase, comforter, arms, legs. POOR GUY! I threw him in the shower, hoping to not wake up Meghan downstairs, all the while cleaning the poop from his bed. The bouts of diahhrea continued for three days for him (luckily, no more accidents in bed.) Thank goodness he was still in a good mood. Looks like it wasn't something Sean just ate.

Three days later, after Eliza finished her morning bottle, she was sitting in her bouncer chair watching tv with Isaac, and I hear Isaac yell from the other room, "Mooooooom! Eliza just went poopy all over her chair!" Once again, poop everywhere. EVERYWHERE including her face and fingers. If you just gagged, I'm right there with you. I gagged when I saw it for the first time, and I gag everytime I think about it.

Needless to say, the lessons I learned from this past week was:

-don't think you can go on a dream vacation without something happening right beforehand, i.e. POOP

and

-FOUR DAYS.

I'm probably not going to have enough time to update before I head off, but until next time, here is what I'm going to be dreaming about every night I go to sleep in Italy (plus my macho husband, Sean!) It'll either be that, or dream of gelato first thing the following morning.

This is BY FAR my favorite picture of Isaac and Eliza to date. I could look at this picture all day long.